Night Vision
Page 27

 Yasmine Galenorn

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

“Show me where the salt is. I don’t care for poking around through others’ drawers. You never know what you might find.”
At first I thought she was joking, but as we entered the kitchen, I glanced at her and realized she meant every word.
“We had twenty-pound bags of salt until the Veil House burned, but I believe it was ruined in the fire.” I began rifling through the cupboard, coming up with a box of sea salt. “Will this work?”
“Yes, that will be fine.” She paused before turning back to the living room. “Cicely…did Luna explain what the spell might do to her? The way payments work in the yummanii magical world?”
I shook my head. “No, but she seemed pretty solemn when she first told me about it.”
“When did she bring it up?”
“When we were at the Consortium, while we were waiting for the Council to come back with their decision.” I frowned. “Ysandra, just how dangerous is this for Luna?”
Ysandra paused, the box of salt in hand. She let out a low breath, then gave me a little shrug. “The danger with this type of magic is that every time one of the yummanii seeks the help of their ancestors, they run the danger of being possessed by the spirits who come to their summons. If the spirit is determined, they can take over the body—walk in and set up shop.”
“Is that the only danger?”
She headed back into the living room. Over her shoulder, she said, “No. If the spirits don’t possess them, there’s a chance the magic will. And there are no guarantees what that will do to them. Kaylin’s night-veil demon? That demon can be tame compared to what the magic can do to the yummanii if it claims them. Luna’s a powerful bard, far stronger than she realizes. But I don’t think she’s done this sort of spell before. I suppose,” she added, “we’ll just have to see what happens.”
As she began to pour the salt in a circle on the hardwood floor, I backed away, letting her focus. We needed all the protection we could get, but now my worry was for Luna. I wondered…did Luna have any inner demons that would leave her prey to the magic coming through her? And even if she couldn’t withstand it, did we really have a choice at this point?
Chapter 14
When Luna returned, she was wearing a long black dress, belted with a silver belt. It was off the shoulder, velvet, and hugged her curves. With her hair trailing down her back in black ringlets and her dark eyes ringed with silver, she looked positively magical. Luna was around thirty-five, and for once she didn’t look vulnerable but experienced and softly aware.
She motioned to the table, where two chairs were waiting. Ysandra took her place in a third seat, in the northern quarter of the Circle. Peyton, Grieve, and Chatter sat outside the Circle, where they wouldn’t interfere with the flow of energy. I sat opposite Luna, my back to the east, while she sat in the west, facing me. The crystal ball rested in front of her, and as she lit the black candle, the flame sputtered and caught fire.
I waited for her instructions.
After a moment, she began to hum…a long tone, haunting and distant, and then it became a melody, weaving in and around the room, encircling and braiding its way through the air.
Ulean, what is she doing?
She is calling on the spirits. Her voice is the lure, baiting them to come to her aid. The ancestor spirits, they do not give help freely. They must be wooed, persuaded. Sometimes cajoled. And then they exact a price—there is always a price to pay when sourcing the spirits.
That frightens me. Will she be all right?
Time will tell, but there is no stopping the ritual now. She has cracked the portal; she cannot close it at this point.
I focused my attention on Luna again, watching for any sign that she might be in trouble. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do, but she would tell me when it was time.
Outside, the sky had clouded over, dark and thick, and now, with a crack of thunder, snow lightning lit up the air, and then huge flakes of snow began to swirl down in a frenzied dance. The lightning flashed again, the low rumble of thunder making me want to jump. My nerves were on edge; I felt raw as flesh stripped from muscle, like a swarm of bees were grazing my skin with their stingers. Shivering now, I struggled to remain still, to not disturb Luna’s trance.
And then a soft whoosh swept though the room and something was there, with us, in the Circle. A presence, weighing down on my shoulders, thickening the air till it was so dense that I couldn’t catch my breath.
But Luna didn’t seem to notice. She was bent over the table, her gaze focused on the crystal ball. Her hands barely cupped its sides as a thin mist began to swirl inside the crystal, and then it rose out of the ball to filter into the room.
It was viscous now, and my lungs worked at a ragged pace. I’d never experienced asthma before, except for the anaphylaxis when I got hold of fish, but this was all too reminiscent of the latter. I gasped, unable to force enough air into my lungs. I couldn’t tell if the others were suffering, but then Luna brought her head up, her gaze locking mine, and I realized that it wasn’t Luna looking at me, but someone else, from behind her eyes.
“Whom do you seek?” The voice that echoed out of her cut to the bone, vibrating far too deep to be her own. It was masculine, smooth but forceful, and as each word reverberated into existence, it echoed for a moment, then was gone as if someone had snatched it away.
As the question hung there, I realized it had been aimed at me. I tried to calm myself so I wouldn’t stumble over my words.
“I need to find my cousin Rhiannon, the Summer Queen.” I wasn’t sure whether to go on and explain what had happened, but my lips pressed shut, and it occurred to me that whoever I was talking to, he might just have a broader vista of knowledge than I did. If he needed me to elaborate, he would ask.
Apparently, the spirit did not. After a moment, the voice boomed out through the room again. “Look where time strikes in the heart of the village. Look for the dungeons deep within the ground.”
We had a poet on our hands, apparently. I waited, again unsure about whether I should say anything else. And then there was an uneasy laugh, and Luna stiffened, her eyes glowing with a pale blue fire.
“There are secret ways in, through the alleys and down into the streets. Be cautious, for the creatures from the heart of the world walk there, emerging from their lairs, and even the blood-drinkers fear them and steer toward the light.”
And then, with another sigh, Luna’s mouth opened and the spirit spoke once more. “Daughter of the son of the son of my daughter…this one is talented and can speak for the dead…and so she shall.”
With another whoosh, the presence rose out of Luna in a visible cloud and vanished from sight. Luna collapsed on the table, almost knocking over the candle. I grabbed it before it fell, managing to keep it alight. Ysandra hurried to Luna’s side. She felt for Luna’s pulse, then motioned for me to blow out the candle.
“Lights—one of you outside the Circle turn on the lights, and bring us some water and brandy if you have any in the house.” Ysandra leaned Luna back.
Luna was unconscious, but she was murmuring something, and Ysandra slapped her gently across the cheeks. Luna began to open her eyes. “Here, you stand beside her, make sure she doesn’t fall out of her chair while I open the Circle and bring her the brandy.”
As I quickly obeyed, my mind flew to the spirit’s words. Look where time strikes in the heart of the village…What did that mean?
As Peyton stepped into the now-opened Circle and handed Ysandra the bottle of brandy and a glass, she caught my attention.
“I know where he’s keeping her,” she said. “I know what the riddle is referring to. The clock tower—the one across from where they killed Rex. They’re hiding beneath the Abby Theater.”
“Crap! You’re right—you have to be!” I wanted to run off, to head out and rescue my cousin right this instant, but first we had to take care of Luna.
At that moment, she began to come around as Ysandra held the brandy to her lips, dribbling a few drops into her mouth. A moment later, she blinked and Ysandra motioned for her to hush, to say nothing, but to finish the drink.
After a few minutes, in which we all waited, tensely, Luna cleared her throat, and when she spoke, it sounded almost as if she had laryngitis.
“What…I don’t remember anything about what happened. Did we get an answer? Did anyone come through?”
Ysandra stared at her, a grave look on her face. “Yes, one of your ancestors most definitely managed to speak through you, and we have our answer as to where to look. But Luna…”
Luna paled. “What is the price? Did they say what the price will be?”
Ysandra nodded. “Yes…although it was only hinted at, I know what they are talking about. The dead will start hounding you—you are to be one of their speakers. You have a natural talent for it, and now they know that. This is heavy magic, indeed, and not one that is borne lightly. I’m afraid we’re going to have to do some focus work teaching you how to strengthen your warding and personal barriers of protection.”
Closing her eyes, Luna let out a slow breath. “I said I was willing to pay the price. I guess…they are taking advantage of that.”
I wasn’t sure what was going on—both Ysandra and Luna seemed to understand something I didn’t. But thoughts of Rhiannon crowded in, pushing away my worry over the bard.
“We have to get down there before dark. Before the vampires rise.”
Luna jerked her head up, sharply. “So we know where to look?”
“They gave us a riddle, but Peyton has figured it out. The Abby Theater, below the streets. There’s a dungeon down there. And they have Rhia locked away.” I jumped up. “What are we waiting for? Let’s gather the guards and go.”
“Patience, winged one.” Ysandra held up her hand and motioned to Grieve. “Get a dustpan and whisk broom, please, and sweep up the salt. I’ve opened the Circle, so it will be safe now.” To Chatter, she said, “Bring some cheese and meat and bread. Luna needs her strength back. Channeling the dead is a serious undertaking, not to be taken lightly or shrugged off.”
As both Grieve and Chatter hurried to her command, Ysandra motioned for Peyton to enter the Circle with us. “How are you feeling? Can you go with us, or do you need to stay here? Your father…”
“My father died protecting me. I’m not going to cower away. His death will have meaning.” She paced back and forth. “I still haven’t told my mother. I suppose I should find out what her reaction is.”
Ysandra frowned. “I’m not sure that’s the wisest move at this moment.”
“I won’t tell her anything else. But I need…I need to make her realize this hurt me. I need her to know that someone is mourning my father. If she knows, if she’s in league with them, that’s all she’ll know. If she’s not, then maybe it will jog her into being the person she was, before all this shit came down.”
She stood there, defiant.
Ysandra finally nodded. “Very well, but if I motion for you to stop, you stop. Grief can make us say the stupidest things without realizing what we’re doing.”
“Fine. We have a deal.”
As Grieve was sweeping up the salt and Chatter placed a plate of carefully sliced meats and cheeses in front of Luna, along with a dinner roll and butter and honey, Peyton punched in a number on her cell phone.
A moment later, she cleared her throat. “Anadey…yes, it’s Peyton…Why? Because you tried to kill one of my friends and my father—isn’t that enough reason for me to stop calling you Mother?”
A pause. We were all listening, blatantly, but Peyton didn’t try to lower her voice. She rolled her eyes at me, then gave her head a tight shake.
“Too fucking bad. You brought it on yourself. I just wanted you to know that part of your plan worked. Rex is dead…Yeah, that’s what I said.” Another pause, then, “Vampires. Just the way you planned it out.” After yet another pause, she let out a sigh. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not, but fine. You’re sorry. And so am I. Rex was a good father, Anadey. And you kept him from me all of those years. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
I winced. The pain in Peyton’s voice was palpable, and the anger right below the surface. I gave Ysandra a long look, and she nodded back. We needed to get Peyton into some counseling when this was all over.
If it ever is…
We’ll do our best to make it happen, Cicely. Ulean’s soothing breeze wrapped around me like a cloak. I let out a soft murmur of contentment.
Thank you, my friend. I wish you could help Peyton.
I wish so, too, but she cannot feel me, not very well, not even when I try to contact her.
Peyton was struggling now. Tears were welling up in her eyes and her voice sounded raspy, as if she had a cold. “Fine, I believe you’re sorry. Sure you are. But your jealousy and your anger kept me from having a father most of my life. You can never make that up to me…I realize that. No, I said…Stop. Just stop. I’ve got to go.” She paused one last time, then whispered, “No…not right now. Maybe sometime. Maybe…but now, I can’t come over. I just can’t. Bye…Anadey.”
As she flipped her phone shut, she slumped into one of the chairs. “She wants to see me. But I can’t. Not now. Not till I know things are taken care of with Myst. Not until…I believe she means it when she says she’s sorry.” She glanced at me. “Mother wants to see you, too. She wants to apologize.”
I recoiled. “I don’t think I can do that. At least not now.” Being at the mercy of her spell, feeling her drain away my feelings and energy…No, I couldn’t forget that. Not ever. And I couldn’t forgive it.